


Days Left: 210

by Cerberus38



Series: Huxloween (2016) [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8185030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberus38/pseuds/Cerberus38
Summary: How Hux and Kylo met (and eventually bonded) over delicious fall flavors. (Huxloween prompt 1: Pumpkin Spice Lattes)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive any roughness. I'm getting back into writing after a very long hiatus and this is probably the biggest project I've undertaken in a good few years.
> 
> Crossposted to my writing blog, cerberuswrites.tumblr.com.

When Hux entered the coffeeshop that morning, he immediately knew something was wrong. He couldn’t shake the feeling even as he went to the counter and ordered his usual bagel and latte. When he turned to head to his usual corner, he realized what the problem was.

Someone was already sitting there.

A young man with shoulder-length, barely-combed black hair was hunched over his laptop, tapping away furiously at the keyboard. A pair of headphones dangled from around his neck, his music just loud enough to be heard over the shop’s in-store radio. Papers were scattered all over the surface of the table, and several more were on the floor and seat. He paused in his typing to reach into a bag, pulling out even more papers and rifling through them. He was dressed all in black, his jeans tattered and shirt faded. He wore an obscene amount of jewelry, and… was that an eyebrow piercing?

He most certainly wasn’t part of the clientele this little coffeeshop usually served.

He paused in his search and glanced up, and Hux immediately did an about-face and settled down elsewhere. As much as he wanted to confront the man, he knew he was being absolutely ridiculous in even entertaining the thought. Not to mention the punk looked like he could kill someone with very little effort.

Hux fired up his laptop and signed into the shop’s free WiFi, pulling up the notes he’d been working on for what he hoped would become his debut novel.

‘ _Days left: 210_ ’ read a notation at the top of the page.

210 days left, and he wasn’t even halfway through the story yet. He pushed the thought from his mind and started working. He had to get this done, get it to his friend at the publisher’s, who would hopefully be able to get it into the hands of an editor willing to take him on.

Every so often, Hux would risk a glance at the occupied corner, but it seemed the young man wasn’t going to be leaving any time soon.

By the time lunch rolled around and Hux got up to order a sandwich, he hadn’t gotten as far as he would’ve liked. Aside from keeping an eye on that corner, Hux found this spot to be a bit distracting. It was a bit too close to the counter, so there was more noise than what he was used to hearing on a daily basis. Whenever the door opened, a blast of cooler air would hit him, which was enough to make him keep his coat on and would effectively disrupt his train of thought. The condiments station was behind him as well, so people were coming and going as they grabbed creamers or spreads for their bagels or sandwiches, or coming back for the napkins or silverware they’d inevitably forgotten. Hux remembered why he didn’t like having someone behind him while he wrote—it made him extremely uncomfortable for reasons he couldn’t quite pin down, but he was sure he was being ridiculous about this as well.

At least the WiFi signal was good.

By late afternoon, Hux was worn out and he wasn’t any closer to finishing his current chapter than he had been at lunchtime. He snapped his computer closed, rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, and glanced towards the corner once more.

The young man was still there. This time he actually had his headphones on, his head nodding to whatever music he was listening to now. Looked like it was a lost cause for today. Hux slipped his laptop into its bag, along with the papers he’d written on, and gathered up his trash, getting up and taking it over to the garbage can. He set the emptied tray on top and took his leave, heading back for home where he could hopefully unwind and maybe make some progress—if his cat would let him, that was.

The next few days passed without incident, but Hux struggled to catch up, finding that he needed to go back and change something but not quite able to do it, torn between fixing it now, or waiting until later when it might not be as fresh. And if he changed that one thing, how would it affect everything after it? It was a conundrum he was finding difficult to solve.

A week later, the young man was back again, sitting in that same spot. Not wanting to repeat last week, Hux picked another spot, this time closer to a window and away from the door. He quickly realized it wasn’t going to work out, though—the WiFi was almost nonexistent there, making what he had to do very difficult indeed.

Hux ended up leaving about an hour after lunch.

A couple of days later, it was the same thing all over again. Hux chose yet another spot, this time closer to where the young man had staked his territory. He ended up leaving early again that day, too, uncomfortable with being in closer proximity to this punk who had stolen his spot.

His spot was occupied again the next day, so Hux selected another corner, but one of the air vents blew directly there and made him too hot.

He didn’t even last an hour that day.

_Days left: 198_

Hux had been stuck in this same spot in his story for nearly two weeks now, and his lack of progress was making him even more irritable than normal. Heaven help him if that punk of a man was in his spot—

‘ _Dammit_.’ There he was, the absolute last person Hux wanted to see today. He knew he was being irrational, knew he was about to do something he was going to end up sorely regretting, but he couldn’t stop himself from marching over there any more than he could’ve stopped the sun from setting. The man looked up as Hux approached, reaching up to take his headphones off. Gods, he was even wearing black nail polish. Who did that?

“You’re in my spot,” Hux said, bracing his hands on the table where there weren’t any papers. It sounded ridiculous, even to him, but the cat was out of the bag now. He’d have to see this through to the end, whatever that may be.

“I’m sorry?” the man replied, raising an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected some random redhead to march up to him looking like he was on the warpath.

“You’re in my spot,” Hux repeated, leaning closer, his tone a bit more dangerous. The man quickly reached out to grab some of the papers before they fell to the floor or got rumpled, and Hux caught a quick glimpse of staff lines and hastily written notes.

Sheet music. This man was a musician. Probably not the typical kind Hux would think of at first, given the way he dressed. Regardless, it surprised him and almost made him forget why he’d stormed over here in the first place.

Almost.

“I don’t see your name anywhere here,” he remarked, and he even looked around the area, as if searching for some nonexistent nameplate that marked this spot as the redhead’s.

“Don’t get fresh with me, you teenage punk.”

“Might want to look closer, _old man_ , because I haven’t been a teenager in over a decade.” The young man rose to his feet, all long limbs and muscle and almost freakishly tall. He had a couple of inches on Hux, which certainly didn’t improve his mood any, but he would not be so easily intimidated.

“You certainly dress like one,” Hux retorted, straightening up to his full height as well, crossing his arms over his chest with a displeased expression. For effect, his gaze wandered over the man’s dress with extra disapproval before going back up to his face.

Okay, he would admit, the teenager comment was way off the mark. The comment about his clothing, however, most certainly wasn’t.

“You know, you can sit _anywhere else_ in this shop, yet you’re apparently fixated here…” He trailed off, a dawning look of realization coming to his face. “It’s because I’m here, isn’t it?” He even had the audacity to smirk, and it took everything Hux had not to wipe it off his face.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Hux said with a roll of his eyes. “This spot happens to be the most conducive to the work I do—I can observe and take note without being stared at, it’s neither too hot nor too cold, so I can maintain concentration without distraction, and the WiFi is optimal.” Okay, perhaps this was ridiculous, but he’d come this far now, so he might as well go all the way.

The man stared at him, unblinking and jaw slack as he tried to process this in some way that made logical sense.

“The WiFi is just as good anywhere—except over there by that window, for some reason,” he finally said, pointing to the spot Hux had tried last week. The fact that this man had apparently been frequenting the coffeeshop for longer than Hux had realized surprised him even more than seeing the sheet music had, and he wasn’t sure which was worse.

“Besides, if you’re that desperate for your security blanket, you can just join me, I’ll shove over,” he continued, and the offer was so logical and reasonable (if a bit strange) that it took Hux completely off guard and he stammered for an answer for a few moments.

“As if!” Hux retorted, not caring that his voice had risen in volume to the point where other people were starting to stare. “We both know this table’s far too small for two people!”

“Good God, man, you should really learn to step outside your comfort zone a bit!”

“Now why would I do that?” Hux placed his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow for emphasis.

“I don’t know, maybe you’d actually learn something. Like how not to be a completely unreasonable jackass to a total stranger!”

“Gentlemen, if you cannot resolve this in a quieter manner, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Both men turned at the sound of the new voice, seeing the coffeeshop’s manager on duty standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, not looking very pleased that these two were disturbing the other patrons.

“He started it!” the young man said, pointing to Hux and looking put out that he was getting called out alongside the redhead.

“Technically speaking, _you_ started it—”

“That’s it, I don’t care who started it, I want you both out!” the manager interjected, pointing to the door. “And don’t think about coming back until you both can learn to be reasonable adults!” He turned so sharply on his heel and marched off that a drill sergeant would’ve been proud, leaving the two men staring after him, dumbfounded.

The young man huffed in irritation and starting shoving things back into his bag, shoving past Hux and bumping hard into his shoulder without a word. Hux watched him leave, rubbing his shoulder, considering how much more trouble he’d get into if he just reclaimed the spot.

Deciding he didn’t want to invoke the manager’s wrath further, Hux left as well, but not until he was sure the young man was gone. He had no idea what sort of a temper he had, and he did not relish the idea of getting into a brawl with a man that unfairly muscular. He took his mind off it by going to his second place of choice with free WiFi—Panera. Still, he found it hard to concentrate—now that he’d gotten that frustration out of his system, Hux couldn’t shake that nagging feeling of guilt. He begrudgingly admitted that he had to at least apologize to the young man the next time he saw him—after all, Hux had started this, and if he was going to finish it, he might as well do it right.

Hux did not return to the coffeeshop for a few days, lying low to let the incident blow over. When he returned, he automatically glanced over at the corner to see if the dark-haired young man was sitting there or not.

Hux was disappointed to find that he wasn’t.

The sting was lessened a little by the fact that it was now officially autumn, and that meant the shop was now serving what was arguably its most popular seasonal flavor: pumpkin spice. If there was one thing Hux was absolutely weak for, it was pumpkin spice-flavored things. The flavors and the warm fall colors were what made this time of year his favorite. He ordered up a pumpkin spice latte and staked out at his usual spot, knowing that if the young man happened to come, he might head over here, since he seemed to have fixated on that corner as well.

The next two weeks passed quietly and without incident, with no sign of the young man. Hux felt his guilt starting to return and wondered if he had really chased him off. Then again, if some stranger had come up to him and started an argument over something trivial (and eventually got kicked out for participating in said argument) he supposed he would be avoiding the place—or rather, the stranger—too.

_Days left: 180_

It was business as normal at the coffeeshop—Hux was in his usual corner, typing away at his computer, pausing occasionally to glance over his notes. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn’t notice a familiar black-haired man approaching him.

“You’ve reclaimed your spot, I see.”

Hux yelped and jumped, knocking his notebook to the floor. He looked up at who had interrupted him, opening his mouth to tell them off.

Then it registered who it was.

It was the young man, dressed in his usual tattered black clothing, though today he wore a pair of black leather gloves and a matching jacket. It was appropriate attire for the cooler weather starting to settle in. His dark eyes glittered with unbridled glee, and a hint of a pleased smirk had quirked up the corners of his mouth. He held two drinks in his hands, and Hux figured he was picking up one for a friend or partner.

“Alright, I concede that I deserved that,” Hux said, bending to retrieve his notebook. “What do you want?”

“God, you’re so stiff.” The young man rolled his eyes, then held out one of the drinks. Hux’s eyebrows rose and he blinked, staring up at him.

“What’s this?”

“Pumpkin spice latte,” the man replied, dropping eye contact and looking at the floor instead. Hux hesitated, then reached out and took the drink, taking a sip. “Consider it a peace offering.”

Hux looked up at him again, eyes wide.

“I hope you like pumpkin spice, most everybody does, so it seemed like a safe choice…” Hux held up a hand to keep the young man from devolving into a rambling, awkward mess.

“You didn’t have to do that…” Hux started. “If anything, it should be me offering you a drink.”

“Hey, man, don’t worry about it,” he replied, waving a dismissive hand.

“Look, Mr. …?” Hux prompted, hoping to catch the young man’s name.

“Kylo. Just… call me Kylo.”

“Alright, Kylo. I want to apologize for what happened last time.”

“Don’t worry about it, really.” Kylo looked away, a hint of a blush turning his cheeks pink.

“No, let me finish.” Hux was determined to say his piece. Kylo didn’t have to accept the apology if he didn’t want to, but that selfish part of Hux wanted to get it out there so he could feel better, or at least a little less guilty about the whole thing. “I wasn’t myself that day. I’m a writer with a deadline fast approaching, and I was feeling the pressure a bit. I’ve gotten very used to having things a certain way and I didn’t react well when things were changed on me. It doesn’t excuse the way I confronted you, and for that, I apologize.”

Kylo shifted on his feet, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“You can just say ‘I’m sorry,’ you know…”

“I believe I already did. You don’t have to accept it…” Now it was Hux’s turn to be cut off as Kylo held up a hand.

“It’s fine, really. No big deal. Don’t worry about it.” Well, it wasn’t an outright denial, at least, so Hux figured he could accept that. He nodded and sat back, taking another drink of the latte. An awkward silence lapsed between them, with Kylo shifting on his feet again.

“Look, I have to go. Meeting my friends for band practice. So, uh, see you around, maybe?”

Hux nodded, a hint of a smile curving his lips. “I’ll be right here.”

Kylo laughed.

“The name’s Hux, by the way,” he said as Kylo turned to leave. Kylo glanced back over his shoulder and nodded, then headed for the door, sipping his own latte as he went.

_Days left: 173_

It would be almost another week before he saw Kylo again.

He would glance over at the corner whenever he entered the coffeeshop now. It had become a habit—not one of possessiveness, but of simple curiosity. He wondered if Kylo would ever sit there again.

Hux hoped he would.

Sure enough, he was there one morning, headphones around his neck and papers strewn about as he worked, almost a perfect mirror of how it had been over a month ago. Hux went to the counter and ordered a bagel and two pumpkin spice lattes.

“Anyone sitting here?” Hux asked as he approached the too-small table. Kylo blinked and looked up, then smiled when he saw who it was, reaching over to move some of his sheet music out of the way.

“Pull up a chair, there’s plenty of room.”

Hux grabbed a chair and made a space, setting down his tray and offering Kylo one of the lattes.

“Pumpkin spice?” Kylo asked with a knowing smile.

“It seemed like a safe choice,” Hux replied with a knowing smile of his own.

Kylo laughed. It was a sound Hux could get used to.


End file.
